


Your Hand in Mine

by veilofimagination



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veilofimagination/pseuds/veilofimagination
Summary: Taichi inelegantly drops Yamato on the bed, who wastes no time in pulling Taichi down to him. They kiss– initially a soft brushing of lips, but evolving into the mutual, mad fusing of mouths together. Yamato wraps his legs around Taichi’s waist and grips the back of Taichi’s shirt, pulling him closer into him, like he wants to swallow him. Taichi presses hard into him, gathering his taste, tongues tangling.This kiss is hunger. Deep, devouring hunger.
Relationships: Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Your Hand in Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try my hand at this. Not sure successfully, but you be the judge of that. This excerpt fits inside Chapter 9 "You and Me" of my longer fic _The Long and Winding Road_, but you don't need to have read that to read this.

_your hand  
touching mine.  
this is how  
galaxies  
collide._

_  
― Sanober Khan_

* * *

“Breakfast?” Yamato asks.

“Bed,” Taichi responds, grinning.

Yamato snorts, “You’re turning down food?”

“Bed,” Taichi repeats. Moving his hands, Taichi breaks Yamato’s embrace, wrapping his arms around Yamato’s thighs and lifts him.

Yamato lurches forward, arms falling around Taichi’s neck in order to steady himself. “Taichi, put me down,” Yamato laughs, as Taichi starts to maneuver them towards Yamato’s bedroom. “I can walk.”

“That seems like less fun,” Taichi grunts, adjusting his grip in an effort to balance Yamato’s weight against him.

“You’re going to drop me.”

“Yes. On the bed.”

Somehow, Taichi manages to stumble through the open bedroom door; Yamato kicking it shut behind them, still laughing into Taichi’s shoulder. Taichi inelegantly drops Yamato on the bed, who wastes no time in pulling Taichi down to him. They kiss– initially a soft brushing of lips, but evolving into the mutual, mad fusing of mouths together. Yamato wraps his legs around Taichi’s waist and grips the back of Taichi’s shirt, pulling him closer into him, like he wants to swallow him. Taichi presses hard into him, gathering his taste, tongues tangling.

This kiss is hunger. Deep, devouring hunger.

Taichi barely even feels the kiss. It’s as if a fire is scorching through him– igniting at their lips, and all he feels, all he smells, all he tastes, all he hears is Yamato. What the kiss ignites is wild, thorough, intoxicating, consuming– it chars the world around them; the world doesn’t matter when they kiss. It barely exists. It’s been narrowed to a perfect width: the two of them.

Hands find their way underneath Taichi’s shirt, and Taichi gasps, opening his eyes to glimpse the unfairly pretty blond beneath him. Their eyes meet– undercut with heat and intensity that pours over from one moment to the next– before Yamato tugs Taichi’s shirt over his head and discards it on the floor. He tilts his head, peppering kisses up along Taichi’s jawline, flicking his tongue to trace Taichi’s earlobe. Taichi moans in response, eyes closing in pleasure.

“Taichi,” Yamato murmurs into his ear.

When Taichi opens his eyes again, he finds ocean blue ones staring back at him, searing into him. Taichi holds his gaze, unblinking, as he runs his fingers through Yamato’s hair and weaves a possessive hand behind his head. Yamato arches up beneath him, mouths meeting in another searing kiss.

Taichi suppresses a shiver as Yamato sinks his fingers into Taichi’s hair, licking the line of his lip, tongue seeking re-entrance. Yamato letting his tongue slide slow and careful circles along the tip of Taichi’s. Playing games. Teasing. Exploring. Kissing him with lips and tongue and teeth.

Taichi’s own hands wander lower, sliding down the side of the fabric of Yamato’s shirt, before grazing the sensitive skin right above the waist band of his sweatpants. Yamato moans against Taichi’s mouth, trembling under the caress of his fingers. Taichi smiles into the kiss, before pulling slightly away.

“Off,” Taichi demands, tugging at Yamato’s shirt. He sits up slightly, straddling Yamato’s hips and urges the shirt up and over his head. The shirt is abandoned recklessly on the floor, barely landing before Yamato pulls Taichi back down to him, hands linking, bare skin pressing against each other.

His mouth clamps down Yamato’s pulse point, sucking on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. With his other hand, Taichi traces a thumb down Yamato’s throat and across his collarbones. His hand smooths over Yamato’s chest, teasing him by running his thumb lightly across Yamato’s hip bone as he grinds downwards, creating the pressure both of them crave.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Taichi murmurs as he pulls himself from Yamato’s neck. Yamato’s eyes widen for a second before he curls one of his endlessly long legs around Taichi’s waist and uses the opportunity to flip them, until Yamato’s properly straddling Taichi.

“Speak for yourself,” Yamato mutters against Taichi’s lips, grinding his hips down. Taichi loses himself from there, not sure how long they spend feeling every bit of each other’s skin with mouths. Exploring every curve, every line, every crevice with their tongues. Running their hands over smooth skin, never letting go of each other’s hands for long.

Either minutes or an eternity later, Taichi frantically pushes Yamato’s sweatpants past pale hips to reveal Yamato’s erection, wrapping his hand around that smooth warmth and feeling it twitch in his hand. His thumb brushes tiny circles around the tip and Yamato lets out a small whine.

“Good?” Taichi asks, somewhat facetiously. The answering scowl that flickers across Yamato’s face looks out of place against his otherwise flushed skin and hazed over pupils.

“You know the answer to that, you frustrating bastard,” Yamato pants against Taichi’s neck, clutching at Taichi’s shoulders. Taichi rolls the head of Yamato’s cock in his fingers, delighting in the sounds this little touch pulls from Yamato’s mouth. “Fuck,” he breathes into Taichi’s ear before bringing his mouth back to Taichi’s in an ever increasingly desperate kiss.

Pushing up to a sit, Taichi pulls Yamato along with him to sit on his lap, wriggling out of his shorts as he does. Yamato’s hands come to his side, helping push the fabric down, freeing Taichi’s hard-on. Reflexively, Yamato’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes brightening slightly– a movement that goes straight to Taichi groin, making him even harder, if possible.

Taichi wraps his hand fully around Yamato’s length; Yamato’s back arches and he pushes into the hand with a shuddering breath. Taichi applies slow, methodical strokes, as he simultaneously adjust them, so Yamato is pulled further until his lap, until he’s able to take them both in his hand to stroke at the same time. Their mouths fuse back together as Taichi’s hand speeds up, increasing the friction between their cocks.

“Taichi–” Yamato moans against Taichi’s lips, breaking their kiss as he gasps for breath, knees gripping Taichi’s waist tighter. His nails dig into Taichi’s shoulder and Taichi moans some sort of response, rocking his hips forward, powerless to interrupt their rhythm. “Taichi, fuck,” Yamato moans again, teeth sharp against Taichi’s neck. Taichi speeds up the strokes of hips, his hand still wrapped around both of their cocks, guiding their thrusts against each other.

Yamato comes first, covering Taichi’s hand. His head falls forward, crashing against Taichi’s shoulder, as he stifles his groan of deep pleasure.

Taichi twists his head to place a kiss Yamato’s cheek, but Yamato is already on the move, wasting no time in placing a kiss on Taichi’s collarbone and then continuing to wander with those kisses. Once on his knees, he places a kiss on Taichi’s hip, tongue tracing the abdominal lines lower.

“Yamato, you don’t ha–” a murmured sentence that Taichi begins but finishes with a gasp, cut off as his _best friend_ takes Taichi’s cock in his mouth without hesitation. And then it’s Taichi’s turn to throw his head back, eyes pressing closed, trying hard not to push his hips forward. “Shit,” he pants, “Yama…”

One hand finds Yamato’s, fingers tightening around the blond’s, as the warm suction on his cock almost has him keeling over. Taichi’s breath comes in a sharp gasp, as Yamato takes one hand to the base of Taichi’s cock, licking and sucking, driving Taichi to the point where his breath only comes in labour pants, eyes glazing over with pleasure. Yamato’s mouth is _perfect_ and it only takes a few hearty sucks before Taichi is careening towards the edge, and only one flick of his tongue before Taichi’s vision whites out and his orgasm is coaxed out of him, coming in Yamato’s mouth with a moan.

Yamato coughs, but swallows anyway. Pulling off with a noise somewhere between a choke and gasp, as the last weak spurt hits his chin. Wiping that off with the back of his hand, he stares up at Taichi from behind sweaty bangs, eyes hazed over. He slowly returns to eye-level, breathing heavy; his lips redder and plumper than usual. He looks amazing and Taichi can’t wait, reaching down impatiently and hauling Yamato up by the armpits. Taichi surges forward to kiss him again.

Then they’re falling back on the bed together, Taichi gathering Yamato in his arms; their hands finding one another’s again. And everything finally feels good, and right, and peaceful.


End file.
